So many questions that will go unanswered.
I try to lie down, but the room’s too still and my thoughts are too loud.
Instead, I start looking around the room for something to keep me busy. The five-tier bookshelf by Roman’s bed is dusty. The selection looks older than the walls themselves. Some titles are even written in the old language. I take a few down and the spines crack and peel with age. Bored, I drift toward the back of the room. There’s an alcove with only a mirror on the far wall and a circular table in the center. Slipping around the table, I stare into my reflection.
The edge of my light auburn hair curls around my breasts. Sunburnt skin with a constellation of freckles across my cheeks. My pale blue eyes are as light as the sky on a warm summer day. Three scars across my abdomen remind me how far I’ve come. I’m strong. I’ve survived certain death; I will survive this too.
Will this be my last week as just a female? After this, I am someone’s mate.
I lean into the mirror, bracing my palms on its edges, exhaling slowly. Click. The wall behind the mirror shifts. Stone grinds as dust billows in a tiny cloud before it opens to darkness.
A secret door.
I peek inside. A spiraling staircase swirls into the darkness below.
“Ugh, not more stairs,” I bemoan.
Regardless of my aversion to the steps, curiosity gets the better of me and I descend the stairs. The staircase winds downward, narrow and steep. It smells like damp stone and age. At the bottom, a heavy arched door stands waiting. I brace both arms and shove.
It gives.
A burst of fresh air hits me like freedom. Before me, the valley stretches wide and lush beneath the mid-afternoon sun. Birds dart across the sky. Trees sway against the cloudless blue.
Not just a secret door, but a secret exit.
Interesting.
Perfect timing, because my nerves are fraying, and my energy has nowhere to go. I shift mid-step, fur overtaking skin and bound into the trees.
Wolf form is … quieter. Emotions never fully disappear; they are simply muted for a time. Fears, memories, and questions fade to whispers, leaving instinct in control.
The wind threads through my coat. Leaves blur past. The forest is a pulse and my heart beats in tune with it. A musky scent pulls me left. Something darts through the brush.
I give chase. Branches and leaves whip past me as I follow the trail. Paws pounding against the soil, my breath sharp and focused. The scent of fresh meat in my nose, the hunt, the bloodlust. My mouth waters at the thought of a fresh kill.
My neck bends until my nose is one with the ground, then the bloodlust takes over. My world is coated in a shade of red. Ifollow the trail through the bushes and across the grass, deeper into the trees. It’s strong here. I crouch behind a low bush, peering out. A fox, small and red-furred digging at the base of a tree. I’m solely focused on the meal in front of me. Its heart is pumping. Thump. Thump. The calm tune tells me it’s unaware of my presence. I inch forward. Back arching to pounce.
Instinct takes over, I leap on my unsuspecting victim. Flashes of teeth and fur and then the coppery taste of blood satiating the beast within.
When the bloodlust fades and the forest turns back to green, I’m left with the result. A bloody fox corpse at my feet. Its hair is a similar shade to mine. Blood drips from my jowls and lands beside it.
I was never any good at this part, the aftermath. It’s one part of being a werewolf I’m not okay with. Maybe it’s due to the bloody scene that took our parents, but I don’t think I’ve ever really had it in me. The killing, the bloody mess at my feet. The innocence taken at my hands. I glance next to his limp form; he was digging a hole. My claws dig deeper, widening it. I place the limp fox inside and cover it up. I bet he didn’t know he was digging his own grave. I say a silent prayer to the moon gods to bless its soul before wiping the blood off my chin and paws on the leaves beside the tiny grave.
When I take a deep breath and turn back around, I feel better. Some of my nervous energy has been expended and a feeling of serenity passes over me. I sniff the air to find the path back to the Ancient Castle when I freeze. Across the valley, high on a ridge, stands a tall, white wolf. Still as stone. Eyes glowing blue. Watching me.
How long has he been there?
With a shake of my head, I bolt back through the forest before I can question it. Heart pounding, paws flying, the ghost of his gaze still burning behind me.
Chapter 5
THORN
Iarrive, first paws pounding the moist ground as the valley stretches out before me in full bloom.
The spring warmth clings to the earth here, turning everything soft and green — so unlike the frozen cliffs of the Aurora lands. My lungs are still full of cold air from the run, but the scent of lilac and loam creeps in. I’m the first to crest the hill overlooking the valley. The stone castle set into the cliff at the far side is a welcome sight. Both familiar anticipation and dread pooling in my gut. The winding river curves along the valley’s side, then there’s the expanse of trees where the trials will culminate. On the far end the crimson Sacred Tree stands out against the rest of the green backdrop.
Another flash of red catches my eye in the woods. A wolf, fur fox-like with white paws and under belly. Her muzzle is dribbling red from a fresh kill. My brows crease as I watch her place the kill in a grave and cover it. I’ve never witnessed a regretful wolf before. The hunt is one of our ancient instincts. She wipes her maw and turns to leave.